


The Sound of Silence

by Dullscythe



Category: DCU, DCU - Pre-boot, Flash Rogues - Fandom, The Flash (Comic)
Genre: Cruel and unusual punishment, Gen, Iron Heights
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-16
Updated: 2012-06-16
Packaged: 2017-11-07 22:03:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/435940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dullscythe/pseuds/Dullscythe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happened between the Pied Piper and Warden Wolfe prior to the story in 'Flash: Iron Heights' (2001)?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sound of Silence

"You are scum. You’re a selfish, simpering child. You... ah." Warden Wolfe smirked, as if he were remembering something. “But of course, my words are lost on you. Aren't they." He'd been standing in his dark office before the seated prisoner, turned so that he was in profile from the young man's point of view. Leaning in, he spoke with slow deliberation so that his mouth over-shaped the words. "Aren't they. Mister Darrow."

Henry Darrow, alias of Hartley Rathaway, also known as the Pied Piper, stared sullenly at the Warden. Of course he could lip-read. But that sort of facial exaggeration made it more difficult, and Wolfe knew it. Piper's wrists and legs were secured to the chair, and there was an inexplicable pain in his shoulders. Cramps, or muscle strain, something like that. It wasn't surprising, considering how roughed up he had felt when they'd brought him into the prison, earlier. Damn that Flash. "Aren't they what," he retorted, overly loud, since he could not hear his own voice.

Wolfe smirked at him, and then reached up slowly. Piper tried to lean away, but the cramp intensified, a stabbing pain between his shoulder blades. He gasped and gritted his teeth. Wolfe touched the sleek, rounded metal collar around the prisoner's neck; a portable power nullifier. The Warden had the key, of course, turning the collar off for now without removing it. Piper gasped again as his nanomechanical ears reactivated, his world flooding with sound as the pain drained from his body. He even heard the heartbeats of the guards stationed outside the door of the Iron Heights Warden's nice, new office.

"As I was saying." Warden Wolfe settled back, casually sitting at the edge of his desk, arms lightly folded over his chest. "A criminal such as you is little more than a selfish and simpering child. You are a thief, but you also hunger for... attention. Otherwise, why bother with such ostentatious clothing and gimmickry?" He eyed the prisoner's green costume with an expression of disdain. Piper remained silent, although he could hear Wolfe. Yes, he could hear him just fine. So, Wolfe continued, "It has been my opinion that it is impossible to reform criminals. However, I am not yet convinced that this is so. Perhaps the criminal mind merely needs to be... broken. And then, of course, rebuilt. Something of a tabula rasa, fresh and ready to re-learn true morality. What do you think, Mister Darrow?"

Piper's lips curled in a sneer, defiance sparking in his eyes. He despised being talked down to. "I have no interest in this discussion, Wolfe." He spat the man's name as if it were a curse. A thin smile curved the Warden's lips, and he stood up properly.

"You say that now," said Wolfe, lightly resting his hand upon the top of the Pied Piper's head, ignoring the young man's struggles to evade this touch. "But we shall see how that goes. Enjoy your accommodations, Mister Darrow. I'm certain you'll find it all quite... peaceful." With a tap, the collar was reactivated, and Piper's world fell silent again. He could not hear the epithets he was shouting as the guards took him away to his cell.

It was dank and cold and dark. And quiet. So quiet. Piper had forgotten what it was like, but his early childhood had been spent in unbroken silence. Not in these kinds of surroundings, of course; this prison cell was a far cry from the lush rooms of Rathaway Manor.

He did not care. Wolfe could go to hell. He lived in silence for years as a child! He could manage a few hours, or even a few days, until he could break out. Or his Rogue pals could help him break out. Although...

Although he had heard, heh, heard rumors that Iron Heights was impossible to escape. After having the Rogues constantly break out of the State Penitentiary north of Central City, Iron Heights was built as a sturdier cage for its colorful jailbirds. No one had ever escaped from Iron Heights.

The first day--or possibly days; there was no window and no way of accurately marking time--went smoothly enough. Piper imagined music in his mind, since he had nothing else to do. He was not even allowed out of his cell for mealtimes, which were served to him erratically.

After a week, Piper was having trouble remembering what his voice had sounded like.

After two--or was it three? He was starting to forget what music sounded like.

When he started screaming, desperate for sound, he could not stop even when his throat was raw and his voice shut down. That was a relief for the other inmates nearby, although it did not keep Piper from continuing to choke out hoarse exhalations of air; it sounded the same to him, either way.

Warden Wolfe smirked at the sight of his project. The Piper was looking drawn and pale. He sat in the chair in the middle of the dark office, and although he had been cuffed in place, the twitching figure did not seem to have the will to fight or escape. Wolfe's powers would be excessive in such a case, but he would be remiss to leave out anything that might impact his eventual success.

The Warden's eyes glowed red. The Piper sucked in a sharp and pained breath, the sudden agony in his limbs jolting him back to reality. He blinked, as if only now becoming aware of his surroundings. Wolfe gave him what passed for a kind and encouraging smile, although it was returned by a look of incomprehension from the prisoner.

Once he was certain he had the Piper's attention, Wolfe leaned forward and tapped the prisoner's collar. He also released his hold on the young man's nervous system, and said, "Welcome back, Mister Darrow."

As the pain vanished and his hearing returned, Piper choked out an uncontrollable sob. Wolfe's voice was... was beautiful to his ears. Food for a starving man, and once he had that thought, his lips curled back in revulsion. He turned his face away and took in slow, deep breaths, trying to regain some composure.

"Interested in continuing our discussion?" wondered Wolfe, as if no time at all had passed.

"N... not really," Piper's voice came out in a tremulous croak, and not as the strident and arrogant statement he had intended. He had to clear his throat. Did the man really think he was this weak? His eyes narrowed, and anger gave him the courage to turn his head back, to glare at Wolfe.

"Ah. I see that you continue to prove my first thought correct. Impossible to reform." Wolfe clucked his tongue and gave a slight shake of his head. "Although it may be that you haven't had enough time yet. I think that may be the case." He reached forward for the collar.

"Wait! W-wait," Piper shrank back against his chair, unwilling to give up all this glorious sound so soon. "I... no, I'm willing to talk. Whatever you'd like to say. I didn't mean to be rude."

Warden Wolf paused as the prisoner spoke, although he did not withdraw his hand. He smirked, and said, "You're a terrible liar, Mister Darrow. I will see you next week." He activated the collar, and pretended he could not hear the project's howls of protest.

Because of his surly behavior with the Warden, the guards removed the bunk from his cell. By the time several days had passed, Piper spent much of his time curled up on the chilly stone floor, staring into the darkness. Sometimes he imagined sounds, thousands of voices gibbering at the edges of his perception. It may have been in his dreams, though. Sometimes it was difficult to know when he was awake and when he was asleep.

He realized he was looking forward to the next chat with Warden Wolfe. The epiphany shocked him, like a bucket of ice water thrown in his face. Trembling, Piper forced himself to sit up, propped by one arm, his other hand tightly covering his mouth. He needed to get out of this place. But no one had ever escaped from Iron Heights.

Well, that was about to change.


End file.
